


eyecandy

by whimsyappletea



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Candy Shop, Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Humor, Implied Relationships, Oblivious, Romance, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 10:32:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7167527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsyappletea/pseuds/whimsyappletea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“God help me, I’m at my limit.”</p>
<p>—there are four people in this relationship. Maybe more, who knows. Len, gumi, rin, miku; high school alternate universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	eyecandy

**Author's Note:**

> the cliché game is _really_ strong in this story holy fuck nuggets --
> 
> i dont really have much to talk about since most of it is in the ending a/n, but this was last years birthday fic for **hanakos** on ffnet, aka my lovely daughter, such a sweetheart,
> 
> characters? all (mostly) in the summary. pairings? (cues 1D laugh track and rolls back into the pit)

.  
.  
.

Have you ever heard of the little candy shop across from Crypton High? The small establishment sells confectionary by the dozens—from small packs of sweets to melt-in-your-mouth chocolates, sticks of chewing gum to homemade goodies, the store shelves are almost always packed to the brim.

It’s nothing special, really. The name-plate is so faded that no one remembers what its name had been, and well-stocked or not, sweets can be found everywhere.

But this little candy shop is where _they_ are, and where _they_ come.

.

**eyecandy**

_i can’t wait another night to see you,  
gotta satisfy my sweet tooth—  
life-saver, you got the kiss with the thousand flavours._

.

  
_Len_  


He sprints down the footpath, school bag bouncing against his hip as he bursts through the door of the little candy shop. Above him, the bell rings, alerting her to his presence.

“Ah, good afternoon,” she greets, offering a serene, mildly amused smile as she sets down her warm tray of cookies. “Where’s the fire?”

“Very funny, Hatsune-san,” the boy wheezes between pants, folding over to clasp his knees and catch his breath. “The fire is my _stomach_. It’s been growling since, like, _two hours_ in to swim practice, and I really need my daily rush of sugar, please.”

“ _Way_ ahead of you,” Miku chirps, dropping a small bag of freshly-made butter-mints on the table and giggling when he leaps over the counter to pounce on it without hesitation. “Although I must say, Len-senpai, this really isn’t a good way to curb your hunger.”

Len takes a seat and tears open the bag, rolling a butter-mint around his mouth in contentment. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for your com- _mint_ -ment, though,” he jokes, earning a light swat to his arm.

They fall into companionable silence as he props his elbows on the table, watching her with dreamily, half-lidded eyes. Miku is graceful in her movements, nimble fingers slipping handfuls of cookies into individual packets.

It’s been nearly a year since he’d first met her in this little candy shop, stumbling in with aching muscles from training and a piteously hungry stomach. He’d forgotten his wallet that day, but Miku had been kind enough to offer him some caramelized biscuits for free to tide him over.

A true life-saver.

He’s been coming up with crazier and crazier excuses to drop by the store ever since, from clearing a shelf of bubble gum ‘for his classmates’ to buying practically his whole allowance’s worth of Kit-Kats.

Len just finds it so _comforting_ to be around her, even if they’re just sitting together without saying a word. He looks forward to seeing her every day more than anything. She doesn’t have a single conniving bone in her body; there’s an innocent sort of sincerity about her that draws him in.

Unfortunately when he’d finally gathered enough courage to confess to her earlier this month, Miku’s only response had been to smile and nod, before continuing to pack up the store for the day.

Like.

What kind of a response is that, honestly.

Is it because he’s shorter than her despite being a senior.

It’s just two centimetres, though. _Two centimetres._ Is it really that bad.

Although she _has_ been addressing him by his given name since then...

Len’s in the middle of nursing his wounded pride for her subtle rejection and his own utter lack of height when something smacks the back of his head.

_Hard._

And there’s only two people he knows who would do such a thing, and it’s definitely not sweet, won’t-ever-hurt-a-fly Miku.

(The other person isn’t even aware of this little candy shop’s existence, so she’s out of the question... _for now_. He shudders to ponder over what chaos would break out should Rin’s curiosity get the better of her as it often does.)

Perhaps he should’ve factored in this—this _abomination_ to Miku’s non-answer as well.

“Gah, _Megpoid_!” he yelps, dropping his bag of butter-mints to clutch at his aching scalp in both hands. Holy cow, that’s definitely going to leave a bruise the size of an orange. “What did I ever do in my past life for you to manhandle me like this?!”

“Hands off the table and get your ass away from my counter,” Megpoid barks, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed to slits. In the background, Miku is biting her lip in concern, but wisely stays out of it. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“You have no respect for your upperclassman at _all_ , freshman,” the blond accuses, but still heeds her orders and scoots away from the two girls. “Who do you think _you_ are?”

“Wow, gee, I dunno—maybe... _the daughter of the people who own this store?_ ”

“Oh.”

“‘Oh’ is _right_ , you little—!”

“A-alright!” Miku cuts in with a nervous laugh, gently patting Megpoid’s shoulder like one would to soothe a wild animal. At Len’s betrayed expression, she shoots him a look that’s half-warning, half-apologetic. “Alright, he’s now nowhere from the counter, so problem solved, yes?”

Just then the store’s landline rings, and all three halt their conversation at the sound.

“Miku-san, please answer the phone.”

“O-oh, yes!”

The teal-haired girl scuttles off to the back, picking up the call. “H-hello? Yes, speaking... Eh, Mikuo? Why are you calling? Really, now...”

Once they’re certain that Miku is occupied and out of earshot, Megpoid and Len turn to each other to trade nasty looks.

“Listen, punkass-sen _pai_ ,” sneers the freshman girl. He grits his teeth at her mockery of the respectful term, but otherwise stays quiet. “I heard about your silly little confession to Miku-san, and I’m telling you now: _don’t_ press your luck.”

Len splutters. “What does my c-confession have to do with y—”

Megpoid silences him with one of the coldest glares he’s ever seen, freezing him in place. “You’re not good enough, so don’t even try.”

“You—!”

“Ah, Gumi-chan, we just got a new order!” Miku calls, sounding cheery at the thought of good business coming in. “I need your signature to confirm!”

“Coming!” Megpoid shouts back, her stern gaze never straying from the boy. She points two fingers at her eyes, then jabs them in his direction, as if to say, _I’m watching you._

Like.

Who does that girl think she is, honestly.

Len grumbles choice words under his breath, stuffing another butter-mint into his mouth and crossing his arms over his chest in a huff.

.  
.

  
_Gumi_  


 _3.39pm_  
**From:** Miku-san

Ahh, I’m so sorry, Gumi-chan – I forgot to tell you that I can’t make it for my shift today. I promised Len-senpai I would watch his swimming competition this afternoon (シ_ _)シ I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, I promise! (´;︵;`)

.

Gumi’s eyebrow twitches as she rereads the message on her phone again, crushing her personal stash of candy in one hand. “He didn’t take me seriously at all, of _course_ that fucker didn’t, dammit...” In curt, jerky movements, she unwraps a stick of spearmint chewing gum and pops it into her mouth, working her jaw over it aggressively.

It’s a pain to deal with such a stubborn punk, but he’s got to go through _Megpoid motherfucking Gumi_ first before he can even _think_ about putting the moves on _her_ upperclassman. Who cares if he’s older? She can kick his ass from here to Sunday without having to break a sweat.

And yet—

.

_3.48pm_  
**To:** Miku-san

Alright, noted. Have fun.

.

Gumi sighs and drops her phone onto the counter with a clatter. She still admires Miku too much to physically attack Kagamine, especially when she knows the teal-haired girl would be terribly upset if he were to get hurt.

She’s known Miku since their middle-school days, after all, back when she’d been an easily bored thrill-seeker who loved to pick fights just for kicks and spent nearly every day after school in detention.

_You pack such a mean punch for someone of your size_ , Miku had told her kindly one day, her prefect badge glimmering with understated importance. _Why not channel that strength into something else for a change?_

Gumi had listened on whim, learning to put those lean muscles of hers into good use as she started to help her parents around the store with the incoming shipments and occasional bulk orders. It’s surprisingly difficult despite the small business establishment, so naturally her days of boredom and detention soon became a thing of the past.

Her admiration for Miku, unfortunately, is still a part of the present.

“Mii-neechan? Are you in?”

She flicks her gaze over to the entrance, pausing mid-chew. Huh, she’d been so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t even hear the bell hanging against the doorframe. How long has the customer been in the shop?

“I’ve arrived to collect my order...?”

Oh. She glances over at the pile of pending receipts, her eyes skimming through the one at the top of the pile. Yeah, that’s right, her mother did mention the sole collection for the day before she left for grocery shopping.

Switching both her mind and body to auto-pilot, Gumi takes out the cookie cake from the fridge in the back—it’d already been baked earlier in the afternoon, thank goodness—and hurries the best she can before the customer becomes irate.

“Hi, sorry about the delay,” she says, setting it down and wiping her hands against her apron more out of habit than cleanliness. “Here’s your chocolate chip cookie ca—”

“Megpoid?”

No way.

Her eyes widen at that voice, familiar and tinged with disbelief, before she snaps her head up to meet equally wide teal eyes.

No. Fucking. Way.

“ _Fujita_ ,” she scoffs with the narrow of her gaze. Her patience today is stretching really, really thin, and this situation isn’t helping one bit. “The hell are you doing here?”

Fujita Mikuo merely regards her with the lift of his chin and perpetually rosy cheeks. “Not for a fight, if that’s what you’re implying,” he remarks, pushing his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose.

Gumi stares, a little thrown by his answer. She hasn’t seen him since they’ve gone to different high schools, but this isn’t the Fujita Mikuo she remembers from those three years in the same class together in middle school—he’s always been mean-spirited and downright _haughty_. Intelligence, money and popularity can do that to a person.

But he’d always been particularly harsh with _her_ , the girl with a short temper and an even shorter attention span that hadn't been meant for flawless school records.

“What are you playing at, Fujita,” she demands, rolling out one hip into a more offensive stance. He may be a giant in height, but she’s a bloody _tiger_ at heart. “I’m in no mood for mind-fucks. Aren’t you always rubbing into my face about how I’ll never match up to you because I’m a dumb, violent pipsqueak? Did you lose your balls in high school, or something?”

For a split second what seems like genuine regret flits across his face, before it disappears and his face turns redder. “I’m here not to antagonize you, Megpoid, _honest_. It’s just—my cousin works here part-time, and I needed a place that can whip up my order within a limited time-frame.”

“ _‘Cousin’?_ ” It clicks, shades of teal matching up in her mind, and she throws him a look of disgust. “Wow, I can’t believe someone like _you_ is related to Miku-san. Actually, no, wait, I can—it just means that all the good genes were passed down to her instead of you.”

“Why, you—!” The boy glares at her wicked grin, but still doesn’t rise to the bait. “ _Ugh_ , how much is the cake?”

Her surge of triumph fades, leaving nothing but a sense of hollow confusion. It’s almost like he’s trying to be _nice_ to her. Fucking weird day _this_ is turning out to be...

They complete the transaction in terse silence, with Gumi slipping the money into the register before covertly spitting her gum into the small dustbin and Fujita lifting the box of cookie cake with careful hands.

A pause.

“Look, Megpoid—”

“The, uh, cookie cake—”

Another pause, and then:

“You first, Megpoid.”

“Ah.” Absently she wipes her hands against her apron again. “Standard cookie cake instructions: consume within two days, storage area should be clean and dry, best to keep it in the fridge. Your turn.”

Fujita’s flush grows worse, the colour creeping down his throat painfully slow. “L-look, for all it’s worth, I’m really sorry about the way I treated you in middle school. You were just so... _different_ from the rest. I didn’t like different back then.”

“Evidently,” Gumi deadpans, but she gets what he means—most of the girls in their year had looked pretty fragile and doe-like, not to mention really easy to please and flirt with for guys like Fujita.

“Well, I was stupid.” One corner of his lips quirks up wryly. “You’re not a dumb, violent pipsqueak. I mean, _sure_ you punched me in the face a couple of times and landed an honours student like me in _detention_ of all places, but I can’t say I didn’t deserve at least _some_ of those punches.”

She raises an eyebrow, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from grinning and ruining her poker-face. “ _Just_ ‘some’?”

Fujita chuckles, a sound that makes her heart stutter for a second. “Alright, maybe I _did_ deserve all of them.” He gives her a look that’s equal parts apologetic and hopeful. “So... what do you say? Truce?”

Gumi taps her chin, pretending to consider. “Eh... _no_. You’re still a flirty good-for-nothing pimp in my book.”

He gapes. “Are you fucking _serious_ , Megpoid?”

Now it’s her turn to gape. “Did golden boy Fujita Mikuo just _curse_?”

“No, I was just—uh...”

Megpoid throws her head back to laugh at his priceless expression, and suddenly the teal-haired boy’s blush is back full-force. She’s never understood why his face is always eternally red around her; it’s been this way even back when they were at each other’s throats all the time. “I was kidding, I’m not _that_ big of an asshole. _Truce_ , Fujita.”

“Call me Mikuo.”

She blinks. Fujita looks horrified, as if he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Alright... Mikuo.”

“Yeah. I mean, _yeah_. T-thanks, Meg—Gumi.”

His ears are tinged pink once more, and she smiles.

Perhaps today’s not so bad, after all.

.  
.

_Rin_

“ _Wow._ ”

“Rin,” Len warns. Her grin widens, heedless of the dagger-sharp glare he throws her way.

“This is—”

“Rin, no.”

“I just _cannot believe_ —”

“Rin, I swear to _god_ —”

“—that you’ve got the balls to do something like this. Len, you _sly_ dog.”

“Dammit, Rin, I didn’t _do_ anything, it was an accident,” he groans, slapping an open palm over his face and dragging it downwards. When his elbow bumps into something soft, he flinches and withdraws quickly. “Oh, sorry, Hatsune-san.”

“It’s alright,” murmurs the petite teal-haired girl pinned beneath him, still smiling kindly despite their rather _compromising_ situation.

Rin cackles to herself, leaning back against the wall and running her fingers through her short, messy locks. She hadn’t known what to expect when she decided to tail Len after school today, but oh, man, she’s _definitely_ struck the gold-mine of blackmail now.

As if reading her thoughts, Len pipes up, “If you take out your phone to snap a photo or video or _any form of incriminating media sources that can be shared online_ , Rin, I _will_ tell everyone how you screwed up on that music assignment last fall.”

She gasps, nearly dropping her phone on the floor. “You _wouldn’t_.”

“ _Watch me_ ,” he hisses, managing to sound threatening despite currently being trapped with a cute girl under a pile of hefty boxes in the back room of the little candy shop.

Rin purses her lips in annoyance. After an intense five-second stare-down with him, she turns away with a scowl and stows her phone away safely in the pocket of her school skirt. Leave it to _party-pooper Len_ to ruin her fun, dammit.

But honestly, he should’ve seen this coming from the moment she’d noticed that he was sneaking off somewhere after school all secretive and flustered. _Every single day without fail._

She’s known this kid since they were in _diapers_ , man. If there’s anything going on in Len’s life that he wants to keep on the down-low, then Rin’s going to be right up there on the roof with giant-ass air-horns and celebratory confetti.

(The fact that they’d come so close to dating but ultimately didn’t a while back is irrelevant. She only has his best interests at heart—which basically means she has every right to butt in and kick ass if she deems the potential love candidate incompatible with him.)

Rin blinks indifferently when a tall boy walks in, thumbs tapping away on the touchscreen of his phone. “Mii-neechan, I tried to call you to give a heads-up, but you didn’t pick up. I need your help.”

“Sorry, Mikuo,” chimes the mystery girl under Len. “I got a little, um, caught up with something.”

The boy lifts his head with a glance of confusion, and—

Ho-ly _shit_.

He is so. Fucking. _Hot._

Rin sidles right up to him, taking in the tousled teal-coloured locks, the black-rimmed glasses that accentuate the pliant shade of his eyes, the strong, broad shoulders and sheer height. Yes, she relishes, he’s perfect. _Mmmm._

“I haven’t seen you around before,” she starts, leaning in close to walk her fingers up his chest playfully. “What’s your name, cutie?”

“Oh my _god_ , are you serious,” Len moans in the background. He knows her routine by now—hell, he can probably recite and mimic it right down to the T, even—but Rin _swears_ up and down that he’s The One.

The handsome god blinks down at her with a fair, chiselled face that’s positively kissable. “Fujita Mikuo,” he says, his voice neutral with a hint of caution. “I’m from the neighbourhood school two streets over.”

_Fujita Mikuo._ She mouths the name to herself, liking the way it rolls off her tongue like butter. “I’m Shimoda Rin. _Pleasure_ to meet you, Mikuo-kun,” she purrs, pressing up against his arm and sighing dreamily when she feels the sinewy muscles underneath.

“I think we’ve established two months ago that your chest isn’t substantial enough to pull off that trick, Rin, _stop trying_ ,” Len snipes, but is once again ignored.

Mikuo furrows his perfectly-sculpted eyebrows and tries to move away, but Rin merely tightens her grip on him; she hasn’t won the cohort’s arm-wrestling championship three years in a row for nothing. “Look,” he says. His serious tone is several octaves lower, but _so_ much sexier. “I just met you.”

“But here’s my number, so call me maybe,” Rin sing-songs, snuggling close and brushing her lips against the shell of his ear. “I’ll give you mine first, it’s—”

A loud clatter interrupts her, and everyone shifts their attention to the green-haired girl standing near the door. There’s a box of recently-delivered sweets at her feet.

“Gumi,” Mikuo squeaks, his cheeks quickly flooding with colour. He jumps to leave at least a foot of space between Rin and himself, making her pout. “Gumi, I, um—that was—”

“Oh, no, do carry on,” the green-haired girl deadpans, bending down to pick up the fallen box and place it on the table. Her hands are shaking. “You’re still a flirty good-for-nothing _liar_ of a pimp, after all.”

“Shit, Gumi—!” he yelps when she flees. Without missing a beat, he tears out of the room to give chase. “Gumi, _wait!_ ”

Silence, and then:

“Great job, Rin,” Len quips, shaking his head. “You just messed up a perfectly good relationship, you _useless_ heterosexual.”

Rin shrugs, unabashed. “What can I say, I’m a lover of men... even taken ones.”

Now that the cute boy is gone, she’s back to square one: pushing Len’s buttons. “So, you.” She nods at the girl apparently named Miku. “How long have you been with Len?”

Surely it can’t be a long time, since she’s only recently discovered this place by shadowing Len today.

“Oh.” Miku blinks. “Maybe... starting from earlier this month?”

Len gapes at the teal-haired underclassman, but Rin cuts in before he can speak. “Really? I can tell you now, though, _this_ kid—” She lifts her chin at him. “—went from a shrimp in trunks to a ripped six-pack shark in speedos. Girls dig the abs, man.”

Especially me, she adds mentally.

“ _Was the shrimp comment really necessary_ ,” is her childhood friend’s complaint. He should _really_ get used to being ignored by now.

“I see,” Miku says, and she sounds awfully fond. “But Len-senpai is still the same kind person he was back then, I’m sure.”

More silence.

“You really do look like an overcooked shrimp now, Len,” Rin points out mildly. Miku blinks again, completely missing the deep shade of crimson on the blond’s face. “Also: I _strongly approve_ of this one.”

“Shut _up_ , Rin, and help us out of here before I gag you with that bow of yours.”

Well, she _could_ comply with his request...

“You said, ‘you’re holding back’, I said, ‘SHUT UP AND KISS YO GIRL’—”

“THOSE AREN’T EVEN THE RIGHT LYRICS AND YOUR ENGLISH IS _HORRIBLE_ AS EVER OH MY _GOD_ —”

...but where’s the fun in that?

.  
.

  
_Miku_  


“You look happy,” Len comments, his eyes following after her petite figure as she flits around with a spring in her step. “Did something good happen today?”

Miku stops humming to beam at him, her happiness bright enough to light up the little candy shop. “You noticed! And yes, something very merry happened indeed.”

“It’s kinda hard not to notice when your smile is so pretty,” mumbles the blond, but she’d been busy rearranging the small array of chewing gum on one of the lower shelves and didn’t catch it the first time.

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing. So, tell me about it.”

“Yes, well, remember Mikuo, the boy from the other time? When we had a little mishap with the heavy boxes in the back?” She misses Len’s grimace as she continues, “He’s finally made up with Gumi-chan.”

“Serious? That’s great.” And then, more softly: “Good luck dealing with _that_ abomination smacking him around all the time.”

Miku’s head pops up from behind the counter; she’d been busy checking old receipts and didn’t catch it the first time. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh, I was just apologizing about Rin. She can be a real noodle on occasion, after all.”

“No, no, it’s fine, really!” Miku chuckles, one hand reaching up to brush her bangs away from her eyes. “In fact, I do believe Shimoda-senpai has done them a whole lot of good.”

She’s never been particularly close with her younger cousin—one of her most distinct childhood memories with Mikuo had him tying her long hair in the shape of a bow around the closet doorknob—but Miku knows full well that he’s a good person at heart.

.

_Ugh, this girl in my class—she’s so reckless. Doesn’t she know she’s ruining herself?_

_Oh, my face? Megpoid vaulted over a desk to deck me after I commented on her attire. It’s not my fault her skirt is way too short and revealing... a-and it’s not like I was looking, either!_

_You’re studying at Crypton, right, Mii-neechan? Is Megpoid’s stupidity still as overwhelming? She can be quite dumb for someone so smart and pre—I MEAN. Uh. Yeah. Yeah. Is she doing okay?_

.

Her cousin has a lot of trouble showing his concern—even though the little blush that tints his face a delicate pink whenever he sees Gumi just gives him away.

He’s getting better at it, though. Miku’s been subtly nudging him in the right direction the best she can, from approaching Gumi in her capacity as a prefect back in middle school to giving him the opportunity to talk to her alone while collecting his cookie cake.

(It wasn’t a _complete_ lie that she’d promised to support Len for his swimming competition, but she _was_ there a bit earlier than she was supposed to.

Besides, Miku got to spend more time with her favourite upperclassman, Len got to win first place in the 100-metre butterfly event, and Mikuo got to make amends with Gumi—so everybody wins.)

Perhaps the incident in the back room had been the tipping point for them both, the teal-haired girl muses. The only real pity is that Shimoda’s currently the one on the losing end, since Mikuo’s now in a relationship.

“ _Rin_ , doing something _good_?” Len’s scepticism bleeds through like a splatter of ink on paper. “She’s a good friend and loyal to a fault, yeah, but she leaves messes the size of _mountains_.”

“She can’t be all that bad, Len-senpai,” she chides gently, but a smile can be heard in the lilt of her voice. “I mean, she did help us out of our predicament after some time, no?”

“Yeah, _after some time_ ,” the senior deadpans. “More like _‘after she was done poking fun and recounting every single embarrassing memory I regrettably share with her’_.”

Miku laughs outright this time. Len’s really outgoing and good at bantering, so it makes sense for him to get along with people like Shimoda so easily. It’s just one of those traits that make him so attractive, really. “ _Love Live!_ is a good series,” she assures. “I watched it all the time as a child.”

He buries his face into his hands. “It’s a series about cute idol girls, Hatsune-san. _Produced for little girls._ ”

A heavy, thoughtful pause.

“What?” Len asks warily, raising his hands up in a show of surrender as she rounds the counter and moves towards him. “Uh, Hatsune-san, I’m sorry if I’ve offended y—”

She places her hands on his shoulders, effectively cutting him off. Protests with a strange, childlike determination: “But that’s just _silly_ , Len-senpai.”

The blond is gaping at her, but she wants him to _understand_ that a show is a show, and everyone should be able to enjoy a series they like without any fear of judgement. If she can watch _Attack on Vocaloid_ , a show about fifteen-metre-tall singing androids that threaten the state of humanity and was “produced for little boys”, then why can’t Len watch a—

Abruptly he drops his head against her shoulder, letting it loll to one side limply. “Len-senpai?” she prods at his ribs with ginger fingers. “Are you alright?”

“God help me, you’re too cute and I’m at my limit.”

“I-I’m sorry?” She’d been busy worrying that she was boring him with her explanation—or speaking too fast for him to comprehend her words—that she didn’t catch it the first time.

“I need to ask you something, Hatsune-san, and I want you to answer me truthfully, okay?”

Miku nods, tilting her head at the troubled look in his eyes. “Of course! What is it?”

The senior breathes deeply. “Why did you tell Rin that you’ve only been with me since earlier this month?”

“Eh.”

He doesn’t give her a chance to say anything more as he goes on, “We’ve known each other for practically a year now! Am I that terrible a friend that you have to lie about our friendship?”

“ _Eh._ ”

“I mean, _yeah_ , you rejected me and all, but I thought we were getting along pretty well so far.” Len sounds about as perplexed as she feels. “What did I do wro—?”

Miku covers his mouth with a hand. Stares at him with a great deal of seriousness, and voices the one question that’s been plaguing her mind since he first posed his question:

“Aren’t we already dating, though? Since earlier this month, when I accepted your confession?”

A long, stupefied pause.

“ _EHHH?!_ ”

.

_i know your love is such a sugar rush and i can never get enough—  
yeah, honey, you’re the sweetest thing i’ve ever seen before._

.  
**omake:**  


“Oh, Rin? Psshh, you don’t have to worry about _her_ ,” Len snorts, waving a dismissive hand at Miku’s worried expression. “That girl’s a fickle one, so she’ll get over your cousin in no time. In _fact_ —if I know her as well as I think I do, she’s probably trying her luck with someone else right now.”

.

At an ice cream parlour nearby, Rin sneezes. It’d better not be Len talking shit about her again, she grouses mentally, shaking her head and finishing her last spoonful of vanilla ice cream.

“So, you like sweets, huh,” she starts, her tongue darting out to lick away the excess cream from the corner of her lips. “Must be great to work here, then. Y’know, free ice cream and all.”

“Yeah, but this place can be... how do I say it nicely... um, _boring_ without people like you around.” With the name _‘Shion Kaito’_ glinting on the badge above his left breast pocket, the blue-haired cashier cracks an embarrassed smile. “But it’s not like small establishments like these are exciting to begin with, right?”

“Mm, wrong-o, Kaito-kun.” Rin strokes her chin as though she has a beard. “ _I_ know a place that’s pretty fun.”

Abandoning her now-empty ice cream cup, the blonde leans over the counter. Grins something that can either spell unspeakable amounts of trouble or turn out fantastically well in her favour.

“Have you ever heard of the little candy shop across from Crypton High?”

.  
**owari.**  
.  
.  
.

**Author's Note:**

> to tie up a few loose ends:
> 
> 1) why isnt mikuo part of “the four people in a relationship”?  
>  _ans:_ the same way kaito isnt – hes a side character. an elevated one, but a side character nevertheless. in a sense you can actually call him a plot device pfftt
> 
> 2) whats the deal with rin?  
>  _ans:_ shes a flirt whose aesthetics are boys with defined muscles. (think matsuoka gou from _free! iwatobi swim club_.) len and rin did, in fact, consider dating seriously due to their mutual attraction and chemistry, but amiably agreed to stay friends since rin probably wouldnt be able to keep her hands (and wandering thoughts) to herself.
> 
> the moral here, everyone, is that some people have personalities that just aren’t meant for committed relationships – but that doesnt mean theyre content to just sit back and watch gorgeous people pass them by. rin is an opportunist and frankly i dont blame her wahaha
> 
> 3) no one in the world can be as kind and dense as miku!  
>  _ans:_ i have a case study irl and her name is kaida so fite me. just. _fite me._
> 
> **disclaimer:** i do not own Vocaloid, or Faber Drive’s _Candy Store_.


End file.
